How a Prince Fell in Love With His Warlock
by btch sprinkles
Summary: A series of moments between Merlin and Arthur, and how they came to fall in love. Deaf!Merlin, AU-Canon. Merthur.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay here's the thing- I JUST started watching Merlin like two days ago. I'm at Season 2 now, and working my way to the end. Having tumblr I already know the feels that are coming for me. I'm freaking so madly in love with Colin Morgan it's almost stupid. This story was totally inspired by an actual honest-to-god dream I had last night. Don't ask. But point is, I had to fic it. They're probably terribly OOC, but I was desperate for some Merthur fluff, so that's what you're getting. Again, I'm sorry if they're grossly OOC, but I've literally just started watching, and so I'm still trying to get into their characters._

**Story:**

The leather strap on his pack was cutting into his shoulder by the time he made it into the great city. He was aching from head-to-toe. He hadn't realized how long the walk was going to be, how heavy his pack would feel, and the anxiety of entering the Castle of Pendragon to work under his mother's old friend was a weight in itself. It also didn't help that Merlin was deaf. As a stone. As in couldn't hear a thing, and didn't speak either. And the worst of it? He was a warlock.

Of course, Merlin didn't know what the word warlock was. He'd never seen it shaped on anyone's lips before. What he did know was that he was special, and the very thing that made him so special could also get him burnt at the stake, hung, drowned or beheaded. Merlin had magic, and magic was illegal. Magic provided Merlin with the ability to read lips, more so than any other deaf person in the land, though they were few and far between. Magic helped Merlin live as normal a life as he could, albeit secret. But it was his greatest fear, being discovered.

Gaius was supposed to be able to help. His mother had insisted with her hands, the language Merlin had learned, very few people understood, but helped him get by. Hand signs. And now he was strolling into Camelot, the dragon's lair, so to speak, because should King Uther Pendragon or any member of his household find out Merlin's secret, he'd be done for.

The first thing Merlin noticed about Camelot was the smell. My God, and it was terrible. The smells of waste and sweat, of people and animals crammed together in such close, tight quarters. Filth in the streets, running openly. Food rotting in corners of buildings. Dead animals rotting away. His mother had told him of the city, of how absolutely different it would be from his small village, but he hadn't realized.

Merlin, by nature, was always on alert. He couldn't hear a rogue cart rushing past him, nor could he hear the people around him, behind him, anything out of sight. He'd trained from a very early age to watch everything. His head whipped this way and that as he made his way through the crowd.

Unfortunately, when he was looking right, he hadn't looked left, and the larger person he'd bumped into went flying. He glanced over at the angry face, the blonde now clamoring to his feet with hands on his hips. His mouth was flapping too fast for Merlin to be able to catch the words and he took a step back. He shrugged as if to say, 'I'm sorry,' but whoever this person was, he was waiting for Merlin's apology. Or reason. Anything.

Merlin started to walk away, knowing he could do nothing. A hand caught him, however, and he was turned around so roughly he let out a little 'oomph'. The blonde was in his face now, his mouth moving slowly and Merlin was able to catch the question.

"Do you know who I am?"

Merlin swallowed and feeling a little panicked, shoved the young man off of him. He shook his head and started off again.

The hand caught him once more, and when his eyes fell on the lips he read the words, "Wrong answer."

And that was how Merlin met Prince Arthur Pendragon, Heir to Camelot's throne.

Gaius was a kind man. He'd learned the signs Merlin needed to communicate. He'd seen Merlin's magic first hand and vowed to protect him, to keep him safe. He vowed to teach Merlin what the young warlock needed to know, because deep down, Gaius knew. Merlin was special.

It didn't help, however, that despite his inability to communicate with most of the world, Merlin was full of sass. He didn't like this Prince Arthur and twice had landed himself in the stocks for defying the prince. But it had been worth it, because seeing Arthur pink with rage, and frustrated, was reward enough for Merlin. Trod on and treated like he was less, like he was stupid his entire life, Merlin never missed an opportunity to dish it out.

He was dead asleep when he heard it. It was noise and words, and it frightened him. Sitting up in his bed, Merlin felt his heart beating in his throat. It was something, calling to him from deep beneath the bowels of the castle. He'd heard something like this before. It was magic, piercing his brain, tugging him. He found himself with a torch in hand, climbing down, where no man ever dared to go.

And there he was. The Great Dragon. Merlin was terrified, his hand shaking as he held the torch high, the fire glinting in the Dragon's wide, staring eye. He smiled, if what the Dragon did could be called smiling, and Merlin saw his body shaking with a laugh.

"How good it is to meet you, young Warlock."

It was the first time Merlin had ever heard words. They were magic, and he understood them, but it was all so confusing. His knees felt weak and by the time the Dragon had finished with him, he was furious. He was terrified, and he hated Arthur more than ever. The great Prat, and he was destined to save him and make him a great king?

No one had anticipated the Lady Helen and the attack, not even Merlin. There was something about her, though, something Merlin could sense. Of course it wasn't until they were in the hall at the feast that he could see it. Her mouth was moving, she was singing. One by one, they all began to drop. The men and women of the court, falling into their plates and goblets, down to the floor and slumped in their chairs.

Spiderwebs covered them from head to toe, and she sang. Her head tilted back and Merlin could see the magic coming from her, wrapping around every being in the hall. Except him. He reached up absently and touched his useless ears, and then fell back to the shadows. She hadn't seen him, hadn't sensed him. She drew a dagger from her dress and he knew now that the Great Dragon was right. She was going to kill Arthur. This was his destiny.

His eyes fixed on the iron chain above her and with a small push, his eyes flashed and it broke, falling on her. It took mere moments for the rest of the court to wake, and Merlin tried to blend in. Magic may have saved Uther, but it would not save Merlin if the king noticed.

They began talking, mouths all moving, and Merlin looked over at Gaius who was just barely coming to. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. The witch was not dead, not yet. The dagger flashed in the light of the candle and Merlin dove.

Without thinking, he dove at Arthur and he grabbed the young prince by his tunic, taking him down. It was strange. Merlin's hand was wrapped around Arthur's wrist, and it felt hot, boiling hot, and as they hit the floor, something happened. It was like the Great Dragon, the noise in his head, and he heard the chair clatter, and the dull thud as the knife pierced the spot where Arthur had been standing.

Shoved off, Merlin scrambled to his feet, but the world was silent again. The witch was dead, and Uther was staring at Merlin with wide, eyes. He was speaking, but Merlin was distracted and didn't quite catch it until Gaius walked up.

"Forgive him, my Lord," Gaius said, "but the boy cannot hear."

Uther's eyebrows rose and he looked between Merlin and Gaius before choosing his words very carefully. "You saved the life of my son."

Merlin caught that, and promptly flushed red. He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.

Uther, however, would not let Merlin back away. "You must be rewarded. You will be taken into my household as a servant to Arthur. I am indebted to you, young Merlin."

And that was how Merlin became the servant to Arthur Pendragon.

"So you can understand what I'm saying?" Arthur said.

But he'd been pointing directly at his mouth, so Merlin had only caught "can …stand, and ing." With a small grin, Merlin grabbed Arthur's sleeve and pulled his hand down. He made a circular gesture, asking Arthur to repeat himself again.

Arthur's face went a little red. "Right yes, I mean, I have to be able to communicate with a servant, you realize. I can't be going around making gestures like some sort of court jester."

Merlin snorted a laugh and made the circle with thumb and forefinger, Okay, sign. Arthur seemed to understand it and he sat back in the chair, kicking one boot up on the table. Merlin frowned, and pushed Arthur's foot down, making a big show of wiping the dirt onto the floor.

"How is it you can sass me so much without a word?" Arthur complained. "Honestly, it's the worst. I can't believe my father assigned you to me. What sort of reward is this, anyway?"

Merlin laughed again and took Arthur's clothes up off the floor to the bin for washing. When he turned back, Arthur was staring at him. Hard.

"So you make noise when you laugh, did you know that?"

Merlin shrugged and then shook his head. He'd never really thought about making noise when he laughed.

"You don't speak at all, then? Not a word?"

That wasn't entirely true. Merlin had learned a few words over his lifetime, but the expressions on other people's faces bothered him. The grimaced, they cringed. He sounded different, and Merlin had enough of being different, so he kept silent. He spotted a quill and parchment on Arthur's desk and took it up.

**I can speak a few words, Sire, however I've been told my voice sounds strange so I don't speak much.**

Arthur read the paper and then looked up at Merlin. "This won't do at all. Merlin, obviously you're not as stupid as you act, seeing as you can write and read, but I can't sit around all day waiting for you to scribble out love notes, can I?"

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at Arthur, his expression incredulous. What more did this Prat Prince want, anyway?

"You've got to at least learn to address me," Arthur said. "Aloud."

Merlin took a step back from his master, his head shaking just a little. There was no way he was going to speak in front of this prince. Absolutely no way. Arthur spent enough time slagging Merlin about his inability to do anything right, to clean properly, to be there when he needed him. Ignoring the blatant use of magic nearly right in front of him that had saved the prince's life more than a dozen times. That was quite enough, thank you.

But Arthur wasn't about to let this go. He jumped up from his chair and backed Merlin right into the corner of the room. "Go on then, try it," Arthur said. "Show me what you've got."

Merlin took a huge gulp of air and then blew it out. His mouth opened, and then closed. His head shook from side to side. No. No he wasn't going to.

Arthur was now just inches away, the arms crossed over his own chest pressing into Merlin's. "If you think I'm going to let you just walk away, Merlin, you're wrong. You defy me enough all day, every day. You're going to address me properly."

The truth was, Merlin knew how to say things like, "Sire," and, "My Lord and My Lady." He knew how to say, "Yes" and "No" and "Thank you." He'd been practicing "Gaius," now for some time, and had mastered at least six verbal spells which had served to save this idiot prince more than once.

But now Arthur was asking Merlin to openly make a fool of himself. Merlin had never attempted Arthur's name, and Merlin was absolutely certain that's what Arthur wanted to hear. "My Lord," Merlin finally muttered.

Arthur froze, then took a step back. Merlin was staring hard at the ground, determined not to see if Arthur was saying something, berating him for how he sounded. A warm hand crept out then, cupping his cheek, and Arthur drew Merlin's gaze to his lips. And then it happened again. The noise, the sound. He could hear Arthur's shallow breathing, and the wind coming through the window.

"Say it again," Arthur said. And Merlin heard that, too. It was magic, frightening and terrible, and it was only after a moment did Merlin realize he was hearing through Arthur's ears.

Merlin gulped and this time put a little more force behind the vibrations his throat made. He knew he was making his words "louder" with "sound." He cleared his throat, "My Lord." He heard that, too, and felt Arthur suddenly relax at the sound. Arthur moved his foot and Merlin jumped a little.

Arthur's hand was still pressed to Merlin's cheek, hot and warm and almost comforting. His eyes, normally hard and mocking, went soft and he finally stepped all the way back. Merlin's world went silent once more. "Good, yes. I… thank you, Merlin. You may address me as such… when you're comfortable."

And that was how Merlin learned to talk to Arthur.

Merlin was gasping for breath, the thud of the horses' hooves vibrating into his chest as he plowed faster, after Arthur. He could see his master ahead of him, looming in the shadows of the trees. Camelot was just ahead, and if Merlin didn't catch up, Arthur was going to kill Uther. There was not a doubt in Merlin's mind.

He'd called for him twice, too, aloud, using his voice, but Arthur didn't hear, and if he did, he refused to acknowledge his servant. He was blinded by anger, his hatred and anguish over what Morgause had showed him. The death of his mother now pressing, blamed on the king. And the worst of it was, Morgause had told Arthur the truth.

But Arthur was too fast, and Merlin was too tired, and the prince had long crossed the city and courtyard before Merlin had caught up with him. His feet slammed down on the cobblestones and he ran, but Arthur was ahead.

Gaius was at his side as Merlin tore toward the throne room, and stopped him, his hands flying through the air in their clipped, short language. 'What happened?'

'Stop them,' Merlin's hands snapped. 'Morgause told truth.'

Gaius went paler and he stayed Merlin with his hand. "We can't let him believe it's true."

Merlin nodded hard, trying to show Gaius he understood. "I know," Merlin finally allowed himself to say aloud. "Let me through."

And the guard fought them, but eventually Merlin broke through with Gaius at his side. Merlin stopped his foot on the ground and Arthur froze, his sword pressed to his father's breast. He looked at Gaius, pleading. Gaius gave him a nod and Merlin raised his hands.

"Your Highness," Gaius translated. "Please. She's lying. Morgause was lying. She's a sorcerer, she's enchanted you. What you saw wasn't real."

Merlin wasn't even sure what Gaius was saying aloud, only that the words flew across his fingers and he hoped and prayed now that Arthur would just listen. He had to listen. Merlin was… well he was besotted, truth be told, by the very prince he hated, and he couldn't help it, but he needed Arthur. He needed him to drop his sword and just stop because he couldn't lose him. Destiny or no, he couldn't lose him.

And then he did. The prince stopped, and his sword fell and he collapsed. Gaius took Merlin's arm, and the young warlock very nearly collapsed against Gaius as they went back to their chambers. It was at least three hours later when Merlin ventured to see his master, and he found the door cracked open. It was their usual invitation, the way for Arthur to let Merlin know he was welcome inside.

The warlock stepped in and shut the door. Arthur was by the window, looking out, and he waved his hand to signal he wanted Merlin to bolt the door, which the servant did. When the lock slid into place with a sound so loud Merlin could feel, Arthur turned and rose, staring at Merlin hard.

"You… I…" he started. "Thank you."

Merlin gulped and nodded. "My Lord," he said.

A sad, gentle smile graced the prince's lips as he took a step forward and he cocked his head to the side. "You need a new phrase, Merlin."

Merlin frowned back at his master. A new phrase.

Arthur crossed the room in almost the blink of an eye. Merlin would have sworn it was magic, and maybe even his own, his desire to touch Arthur, to be near him that strong. The future king was close now, his breath hot against his skin. His hand grabbed Merlin's sleeve and pulled him to the edge of the bed.

"Can you say my name, Merlin?"

Merlin's eyes widened and he shook his head almost too hard. But it was true. He could not. Arthur was a name he knew only in letters. To Merlin, the man sitting before him wasn't a name, he wasn't sounds or letters. He was a feeling, a being, existing, an image sitting before him. He was everything to Merlin. He was Camelot. He was the world.

"Can you try?"

Merlin looked around desperately, mimicking writing with his finger and hand. Despite Arthur's annoyed glower, the prince fetched what the warlock requested and Merlin scribbled down quickly. **I wouldn't know where to begin, Sire.**

Arthur cocked his head to the side, setting the paper down on the bed. "How did you learn before, Merlin? Could you hear before you came to Camelot?"

Merlin shook his head. No, he'd never been able to hear, and it was only touching Arthur, it was only letting the Great Dragon into his head that allowed it. It wasn't something he liked or preferred so much as it was something new, something different. Something only Arthur could give him, Arthur and the magic.

"Well you obviously learned somehow. You mother taught you, I imagine."

Merlin licked his lips. His mother had, indeed. By letting him watch her mouth move, feeling the jaw working, the throat, the vibrations on her skin. And by trying and failing and feeling like a fool, and hating it, he'd learned his few phrases and the idea behind what letters made what sounds.

"Show me," Arthur said.

Merlin froze just for a moment, but he could not deny his master. Not this. Not anything, really. He lifted his hands and gave Arthur an embarrassed smile. He reached forward and laid his hand on the side of Arthur's jaw. The prince flinched. He wasn't used to being touched without initiating it, and he pulled back.

"What are you doing?" he commanded.

Merlin gulped and then pointed to his eyes, then tapped Arthur. 'Showing you,' was the sign, and Arthur seemed to get it, because he stilled and quickly brought Merlin's hand back up to his face. Merlin's other hand reached under the nape of Arthur's tunic and pressed against the side of his throat. His thumb touched the side of Arthur's mouth and then he nodded.

"You want me to… talk?" Arthur asked.

Merlin smiled and repeated, very slowly, what Arthur had just said. "You… want me… to… talk." There was no inflection in the words, because he didn't understand inflection, but they had been clear, and Arthur's face broke out into a huge smile.

"Brilliant."

Merlin felt the jaw working under his fingers, and then, like someone flipping a switch, noise began. The laughter of Arthur, the squeaking of the wooden bed beneath them, the wind, the sounds of the echoing castle. It was loud, it was overwhelming. He wasn't sure how Arthur could live with that day in and day out.

"Say," Merlin said and nodded at Arthur. "Name."

"What? Mine?"

Merlin laughed and nodded, startled by the deep sound of his own laughter, and the incredible difference at Arthur's lighter sound.

"Arthur," the prince said slowly.

Merlin licked his lips. "Arrrr… thu…"

Arthur smiled. "Close."

"Close," Merlin repeated, and noticed in Arthur's ears the difference in their own words and voices. As different as faces, each person was unique.

"Arthur," the prince said again.

Merlin cleared his throat and brought one hand up to his own jaw to make sure it felt the same as he said, "Arthur."

It was similar, not the same, but it pleased the prince because he took Merlin's hand away from his face and held it in his own. His expression was soft. Wondering. His eyes holding Merlin in place as if by his own secret magic. "You are a puzzle, Merlin. An absolute riddle."

And that was how Merlin learned to say the name of his Prince.

The pain of grief was not something Merlin had experienced fully. Not like this. Not this crushing pain that felt like it would never end. It felt like something was inside, ripping him apart, and the only thing he could do was keep it together. Arthur could not no. No one could know that this fallen man, this Dragon Lord, was his father.

And in the end, he'd won. He'd sent the Great Dragon away, and Arthur's life had been spared. Camelot would rebuild. They walked back to the town heroes, brave and true, and successful. Heads held high, and even in that moment of sorrow, Balinor had been there with Merlin.

But sleep came, and in that sleep, the dreams. The dreams of what could have been, what should have been, and was not because Merlin wasn't fast enough. He hadn't been able to turn around fast enough to hear the guard come for him, and Balinor had given his life to save Merlin's. In his dreams he was a child and his father was there. And he was not afraid.

When he was awake, the grief was ever-present, and he ached. He hurt, and he could not tell anyone.

And then in the stables, Arthur came to him. He'd excused himself from his duties and went to be alone. It was well past dark, and he sat there, staring at the light of a candle and letting himself feel the pain. Gaius said the only way to overcome it was to feel it, but he felt like he was drowning. He didn't even notice the other presence in the room until Arthur touched him, his hand draping across the back of his neck, and his world exploded with sound.

He jumped back, breathing hard, and looked over at Arthur who had thrown up both hands. "I'm sorry," he said, moving close to the light of the candle so Merlin could see his mouth move. "I'm sorry, I sometimes forget you can't hear me."

Merlin had to laugh at that, because the Prat Prince was just so dense, so self-absorbed. And yet now, when Arthur was staring at him, it was evident Arthur knew. He knew something was wrong, he knew Merlin was hurting. Badly.

The prince took a seat across from the warlock and looked at him. "I saw you in the woods."

Merlin gulped and pursed his lips, trying to look innocent.

"I saw you laying over his body, Merlin. I understand your pain."

"No," Merlin said aloud, surprising both himself and Arthur. "You don't. You can't."

Without warning, Arthur was up, crossing around the table and he knelt in front of Merlin. Never in his life did Merlin thing he'd see the future King of Camelot kneeling at his feet, looking up at him, eyes searching, hands pressing hard on his thighs.

"You're crying, Merlin. Did you know?"

The warlock's hand shot up to clear his cheeks free of the tears. "Sorry," he whispered.

"No man," Arthur said, and he sat up taller on his knees, taking Merlin by the sides of his face. "No man is worth your tears. Especially a man like that, Merlin. You are worth more than that, more than him. You are worth…" And then, neither man knowing what came over them, or what caused it, what fueled it, but Arthur closed the distance between them and kissed him.

Merlin's hand fisted in Arthur's tunic as the prince pressed him back against the chair, hard, firm, desperate. Their tongues tangled, and with his searing hot palm pressed to Merlin's face, Merlin could hear the grunting and panting and smacking lips and teeth as Arthur claimed his mouth.

The prince pulled back and stared at Merlin with wide, wondering eyes. Merlin thought then, just for a moment that Arthur might shout. Might call for the guards, accuse him of sorcery and magic. Might cast him out, or have him executed.

Instead the prince took him by the face again and said, "I'm falling in love with you, and I cannot explain why." And then he was on him again, and Merlin took the opportunity when Arthur's eyes were pressed closed to lock the stable door with magic. And then they hit the ground, hands everywhere, tugging and pulling. And sometimes Arthur's hands were off Merlin, on his clothes, and then they were on again. The sounds were going in and out, in and out with their rhythm as Arthur pressed his hips into Merlin's side.

The hay beneath them was rough, springy, and then there was hot skin against hot skin. Arthur's hand was between them, stroking and touching, and his mouth so hot against Merlin's neck and lips and god he was touching him right there.

The warlock then felt it, building, like a spell only greater, and he could feel Arthur pumping him hard, and the prince's breathing became more ragged. He had him then, and they spilled together, and sharing Arthur's ears, Merlin heard them cry out in unison as hot, sticky fluid coated between them.

When it was over, and they had both calmed, Merlin thought again that Arthur might call for someone. That he might be embarrassed. That he might realize he'd professed his love for a deaf serving boy who couldn't do anything right.

But instead Arthur pulled him close as they lay there on the ground, like one wasn't a servant, and the other wasn't a prince, and they were just two people in love. Arthur sat up on his elbow and stared down at Merlin who was still catching his breath.

"Was that your first?"

Merlin blushed and nodded.

"Then I'm glad it was me."

Merlin felt his throat constrict, but managed to choke out, "Me, too."

There was a silence, and Merlin reached out so he could hear the quiet breathing of Arthur, and the beat of a heart thudding in his ears. Arthur looked down at his servant again and said, "I love you, Merlin."

I love you. Words Merlin had never tried to say, but he knew them well. So, very well. He reached up and put his hand on the side of Arthur's face, thumb touching the corner of his mouth. "Again," he said. "Please."

Arthur couldn't help the smile on his face, just a slight one, just the upturn of his lips as he said it once more. "I love you, Merlin."

It was sound and vibration, and the shape against his palm, and the lips moving in the candle light. Merlin smiled and sat up a little, too. He nodded and then opened his mouth to repeat it. "I love you…" and he caught Arthur's eye, and Arthur smirked. And Merlin smirked. And he should have said his own name, because that's what he'd do under any normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances, and the truth was, Merlin loved Arthur more than any being would love another in the life of the Earth. And so he said, very quietly in the still of that night, "I love you, Arthur."

And that was how the Prince fell in love with his Warlock.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- Just a note- I'm copy pasting from my Ao3 account, and I just realized it's not saving my scene breaks so I apologize about that. Totally not intentional! I realize it must make the fic flow a little weird into scenes at some point, but not quite sure how to make ffnet save the scene breaks. Sigh.**

It wasn't being grabbed in the utter silence Merlin lived in, but the way his world burst into violent sound when the grabbing was done by Arthur. And it was those moments when Arthur looked at him with that look, the Merlin why can't you be a better servant look, that caused the ache in Merlin's chest because they'd never be equals. Arthur could love him as deep and hard as he wanted, but they'd never be equal.

Merlin turned to look at his master, expression hard and annoyed because he was trying to finish up the list of chores the future King had thrown at him. But Arthur's arm was gripping his wrist and there was so much sound Merlin didn't understand thumping through his head, and his arm twitched, wanting to get away from it.

"Are you paying attention, Merlin?" Arthur drawled.

Merlin shook his head, because he hadn't been. He hadn't known Arthur was even in the room to begin with. He'd been distracted, and he stumbled a bit when Arthur threw him backwards and rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. I'm only your future king, why bother to pay attention to anything I have to say."

Merlin absently rubbed his fist over his heart. It was a sign, for sorry, and out of his frustration and still trying to deal with his world now constantly swimming in and out of sound, he'd forgotten the prince didn't sign. He cleared his throat when he realized his mistake and dipped his head. "My Lord," he muttered. His eyes flicked back up to Arthur's frowning mouth. The prince was in a mood this day.

"Just… finish up. Please," Arthur said, and Merlin could tell now the prince was slightly subdued. He nodded, but before he could go back to gathering up the prince's filthy clothes, Arthur closed the distance between them in two, great strides.

Merlin licked his lips as Arthur carefully took his hands and lifted them up to his eye line. Merlin had been prepared for this rush of sound, and honed in on Arthur's breathing, the rough shifting of his boots on the stone floor. Arthur examined Merlin's hands carefully, the callouses from the constant work, the unkempt nails and dirt. He rubbed a bit of soot from the back of Merlin's thumb and then smiled at the wizard.

"Have you eaten today?"

Merlin was startled by the question he read from the prince's lips. It wasn't what he expected Arthur to say. He gave his head a careful shake. He hadn't really been hungry, his head still reeling from the night in the barn. And Arthur hadn't given him much to go on after, besides stolen kisses in dark corridors and those heated looks.

Arthur's thumb caressed the back of Merlin's hand gently, sending a rush of heat into Merlin's face. "Perhaps you should? Perhaps that's why you startled so badly when I came in."

Merlin shook his head and carefully pulled his hand away from Arthur. He pointed to himself. "I didn't…" he formed his words carefully, knowing he was impossibly difficult to understand otherwise, because spoken words just weren't the same to him. "…know. You…" he pointed at Arthur and then waved his hand around the room. "Here. In room." He jabbed his finger at the floor for good measure.

Arthur's brow furrowed and he took the smallest step back. "Sometimes I forget," he muttered. He reached out and then smirked again, letting his finger run down Merlin's large ear. "I forget that even with these impossibly huge things, you can't hear a single sound."

Merlin gulped, but he couldn't give in. Not right yet. He smirked back and carefully stepped away from Arthur's soft touch. "I forget," he repeated and touched his fingers to the side of Arthur's temple, "big head… small brain." He shook his head out of pity, grinning widely.

And then he was hit in the face. With clothes. Dirty, stinking clothes that had been piled on the floor at Merlin's feet, and Arthur had his hand on his hip. "Very funny, very clever Merlin. You're the most useless servant, I swear. I don't know what I did to be cursed with someone like you."

He'd managed to squeeze in a few spell lessons with Gaius in the afternoon while the prince was occupied by his father. He had chores to do, a meal to deliver to Arthur shortly, but being with Gaius was like stepping into a land where people spoke his language. Gaius wasn't great at the hand signs, but he wasn't required to speak, to think about how words should sound, and rely on memory of how lips needed to be shaped, and where the tongue needed to go, just to make someone understand a simple command or question.

In the hall, signing to Gaius, Merlin caught a glimpse of something, but when he looked fully at the corridor, it had gone. Shaking his head, he walked out to muck the stables before the prince's dinner would be ready to deliver.

He was, as usual, a bit late when he arrived in the kitchens. Gwen was there, and as always smiling sweetly at him. She gave him a nod, and tried out a few of the signs he'd showed her for hello, and how are you. She was catching on nicely, and Merlin felt a little bit of warmth and home whenever she was around.

"How are you today?" she asked.

Merlin made his hand into a claw shape and twisted it on the side of his head. It was the sign for prince, miming a smaller crown on the head, then he pulled a face and mimicked the way Arthur had thrown clothes at Merlin. "Bad temper," Merlin said carefully.

Gwen giggled and shook her head. "Well you know what a prat he can be."

Merlin's eyes widened and his eyebrows flew up into his hairline. Yes. That was the word he'd wanted to learn. Arthur had been always on him about not speaking much, and the more verbal vocabulary Merlin gained, the more he wanted to color it up a bit. He took Gwen by the shoulders and said, "Again. Word."

She shook her head. "What word? What? Prat?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes." And he laughed along with her. When she repeated the word, slower and more formed, he mimicked her until he had it down. "Prat." It wasn't exactly like she'd said it. He had a hard time with the letter R, and the T sometimes went forgotten, but it was clear enough and Arthur would know exactly what Merlin was calling him. This one he would save for later. This one he'd make good use out of.

Of course he was late with the food, and Arthur was in his room with his back to the door. Merlin made a show out of making noise when he entered, but Arthur was still standing there in front of the window, though his head was down like he was looking at something on his feet.

Merlin set the tray down on the table, hard, but Arthur didn't budge. He cleared his throat, but the prince was ignoring him. He stomped his foot a bit, and nothing. "My Lord," he finally said, because using his voice always got Arthur's attention. Always. But the prince didn't move.

Was this snotty man he was madly in love with completely ignoring him? Yes Merlin had been cheeky this morning, but he always was, and yes he was late, but he was almost always late, too. So what had he done to offend the prince's delicate mood this time?

Merlin took careful steps, closing the distance between them, and after clearing his throat yet three more times, he reached out and touched Arthur's shoulders. The prince jumped and gave a shout Merlin could almost hear despite his deafness. His face was white, hands shaking like he'd seen a ghost as he grappled for the dagger at his belt. He pressed his hand to his heart, catching his breath when he saw it was just Merlin.

"Merlin," he gasped, "what on Earth are you doing! Don't sneak up on me like that! I'm liable to run you through, you stupid idiot!"

Merlin was absolutely and completely confused. He might not have heard it himself, but he knew he'd been making noise, and the prince acted like Merlin had done it on purpose. With a frown, he pointed at the dinner tray, and then tapped his mouth with his fingers, miming eating, then pointed to the prince.

Arthur swallowed and gave his head a shake. As he did, something fell from the side of his head. The prince pinked a bit, and Merlin wasted no time diving for it. The prince was fast, but Merlin might have given himself a little edge, a little push, and the small thing slipped right past Arthur's fingers and into his own.

It was soft and pliant, whatever it was, bit like dough but harder. He held it up to the light and frowned, giving a shrug at Arthur. The prince snatched it back and took a step back. "Close the door, will you? I know you enjoy acting like you live in the damn barn, but I don't. And lock it, while you're at it."

Merlin, completely perplexed, did as the prince ordered, and when he turned back, Arthur was fumbling with his right ear. He'd had enough of Arthur's bizarre attitude today, and he marched up to his master, one hand on his hip, the other pointing at the rubbery things in Arthur's hand. "What?" He enunciated very carefully, his brow furrowed deeply.

He could see Arthur give a sigh, fiddling with the things. "It's… I..." he said and shrugged. He looked… embarrassed? Oddly so, because the prince was almost never ashamed of anything he'd done. Merlin pointed again, refusing to let it go. "Gaius gave them to me," he said. "Sort of a, science experiment, if you will."

Merlin stepped back and lifted one eyebrow up. Science experiment? Since when did Arthur care about science? Or anything Gaius was about? Or anything not involving banging knights about with swords and maces, and prancing around like a bloody peacock?

The warlock reached his hand out to inspect the small things. He had no idea what they could actually be, or what they were for. And Gaius hadn't told him about any sort of experiments he'd been doing lately, scientific or otherwise. Arthur, however, refused to give them over.

Frustrated, Merlin dropped down lower to the seated prince and touched his knee. "What? Tell me," he insisted, tapping his mouth, then tapping his chest for emphasis.

Arthur, who could never seem to refuse one of Merlin's spoken requests, gave a sigh. "I was curious, alright?" he barked, his cheeks flaming red now. He shoved Merlin off his leg and crossed his arms. "I was… I was curious what it was like. For you. All… deaf or whatever," he gave a loose-handed gesture to his ears. "You just sit there, your whole life in total silence and I… I don't know how you do it. And I… I wanted to see what it was like." He mumbled the last words so much so that Merlin had trouble reading them.

But he had read them, and correctly, and his heart started to thud in his chest. It all clicked for him. Gaius had fashioned some sort of putty for Arthur, to put in his ears to simulate what it was like to be deaf. Which was why Arthur hadn't noticed Merlin come in. Which was why he had been so startled when Merlin had touched him.

He went a little light-headed, because there hadn't been much between them at all since the night in the barn, and though Arthur hadn't taken back his declaration of love, nor had he shown regret for what they'd done, he hadn't attempted it again.

But here he was, the future king of Camelot and he was trying to see what it was like in Merlin's world. Merlin crept closer and this time, when he grabbed the tops of Arthur's thighs, he didn't let the prince shake him off. His eyes bore into the prince's, and he held his gaze firm and intense. "Was bad?"

Arthur frowned. "No. Not… not bad. It was different. It was…" he trailed off and absently reached out, running his fingers down Merlin's ear. His world briefly burst into sound, though not as jarring now since the room was quiet and still. "I don't know how you do it, Merlin. I don't know how you live like that. I banged about all day with those blasted things in my ears. I couldn't hear a word. I couldn't follow a conversation. It was… frankly, it was terrifying. I had no idea if someone was standing behind me, or trying to speak to me. There were times when I wanted to rip the bloody things out and burn them."

Merlin glanced at the table where the bits of putty sat, and then looked back to Merlin. "And no?"

"I almost did," Arthur said with a smile. His hand settled on the crook of Merlin's neck, and he was massaging it gently, without really thinking about it. "Until I realized you can't. You can't just rip little bits of stuff out of your ears and hear." He let out a small breath. "How do you do it?"

Merlin had to laugh, because this was something he never expected. He never, ever expected this question. He never expected the prince to care. Carefully, he rose and cupped his hands over Arthur's ears. He could tell the difference, since in the magic he shared Arthur's hearing, and he could hear the muffled echo beyond his fingers. "Not hard," he said softly.

Arthur swallowed and gave a little nod. "It was, though. It was so hard."

And then, Merlin kissed him. It was a kiss of love, but it was a kiss of thanks, too, and adoration and worship, because the moment he thought he couldn't stand to be around this prince another moment, he was reminded why he was so, utterly, and completely in love. And with the kiss, Arthur's hands came around him and held him hard, and pressing, and needy.

Their faces mashed together, Merlin nuzzling Arthur's cheek with his nose while Arthur kissed along the side of his jaw, and they were up, and across the room, never losing their grip on each other as Arthur lowered to the bed, and Merlin was right on top of him. Merlin's shirt tore, but he didn't care. Arthur's belt flew across the room, but they didn't mind.

And they were skin to skin, and the wind blew over them, cooling them even as they moved together in the dim light of the candle. Their eyes locked from time to time, and Merlin was transported back to that place where he was just a man, and Arthur was just a man, and there was no class or status or destiny.

"Please," Arthur gasped, as Merlin freed the prince from his trousers. It was almost magic, the way they shed the rest of their clothes, and they were pressing against each other, down into the pillows, grinding and groaning softly, Merlin's hand pressed gently against Arthur's chest to feel and hear the moans as his other hand stroked the prince.

"More. More this time," Arthur begged.

There was a little pot of oil beside the bed, for Arthur's hands, and it would do, and Merlin coated himself and then Arthur shifted because this was what he wanted. He wanted Merlin to take him, and Merlin wanted it, too. So he did. And god the prince was so tight, and hot, and bucking under him as he pressed harder, and deeper, and faster.

And then he was coming, and Arthur was coming between them, his fluid coating Merlin's stomach and chest, but he loved it, and he loved his prince, and he felt for a moment it would never be enough.

He lay there, his head against Arthur's shoulder, fingers twinned together carefully, Arthur's other hand drawing lazy circles on Merlin's shoulder. Every now and again, the prince would drop a kiss on his shoulder, and it was just so… normal. For just these quiet moments there was no grand destiny, no kingdom, no evil. It was just… them.

Arthur eventually rolled up onto his side and stared down at Merlin. "How do you understand me?"

Merlin frowned, not quite understanding the question. Arthur seemed to read his confusion, because he touched his lips and said, "You understand everything I say. I couldn't follow a word today with those blasted things in my ears. You seem to follow everyone all the time. It must be... difficult."

Merlin snorted a laugh and rocked his flat palm back and forth in the air, signaling, 'A little.'

Arthur mimicked the sign and grinned. "Is that how you really say it." Merlin shrugged and then nodded, though it wasn't really an actual sign, but it worked. Arthur laughed and said, "Show me my name. What's mine?"

Merlin gave a little shrug, because honestly he hadn't really come up with a sign for Arthur, since there wasn't yet a sign for Prat, and at times he used a fist slapping a palm to mean Stupid, because Arthur was really just incredibly stupid sometimes. But mostly he just signed prince, so that's what he did.

Arthur mimicked the sign. "It's odd."

Merlin shrugged. He supposed it was, for someone who didn't often use it, and he knew that Arthur was being his usual, insensitive self, unintentional, but he couldn't hate him for it.

"What's yours?"

Merlin's cheeks instantly flared red, because his name sign was something the village children had given him and it had always just… stuck, as taunting as it could be. The sign was tugging on his earlobe. It was the sign for ear, because they were, really, fantastically huge, and in truth, his name sign was a bit ironic.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said, nudging the warlock out of his thoughts. "Or shall I make one up for you? Something like…" and he reached down, making a very profane gesture with his hands.

Merlin let out a little noise and smacked the prince's arm playfully. Arthur threw his head back and laughed. "Imagine me using that in court, can you? Brilliant."

Merlin's nostrils flared out of frustration, and he finally huffed, "Okay." That, of course, got Arthur's immediate attention, who locked his eyes on Merlin's. Carefully, he pointed to himself, and then made the sign.

Arthur's eyebrows went up. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Merlin nodded miserably.

"It means ear? Your sign name is ear?"

Merlin nodded again, feeling his cheeks pink.

Arthur threw his head back and roared. His hand still on Merlin's, the warlock heard the laughter and as much as he wanted to hate the prince, he couldn't. He just couldn't. He lifted up and pinned Arthur back to the pillows, pressing his mouth to the prince's, silencing him very effectively.

"Shut… up," Merlin said, something he'd been practicing. He felt Arthur give a twitch beneath him and he grinned. "Like words shut up?"

"I like…" Arthur hesitated and then said, "I like your voice. I like everything about you. Well… almost everything. You're a terrible, terrible manservant."

Merlin shifted his weight down on Arthur and kissed him once more because my god he loved this man, and even if this was all they could ever have, it was enough. He pulled back and lowered his head to speak directly into Arthur's ear. "You. Prince. Are… a… prat."


End file.
